


I have loved you for a thousand years

by Kujaku



Category: Bleach
Genre: 30 Kisses Challenge, Deviates From Canon, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Threesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-06-01 01:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6496216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kujaku/pseuds/Kujaku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>30 Kisses challenge.<br/>Starting off at the end of TBtP, how the Vizards and Kisuke cope with their inner Hollows, Earth, humans, narcissism, science, and lots of sex.<br/>No real linear timeline, btw.<br/>Lots of all that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

1) Inside out

 

He was falling, falling, falling...and all he had in mind was a couple of sentences from a song he didn't even remember listening to. What on earth was happening? Where was he, anyway? And why was he falling...? It felt like an eternity, surely he should have hit something by now... Damn it, where the hell was he? Why couldn't he speak or see or even hear? What had happened?

Oh, hang on...hang on just a minute... There was a voice, calling...calling out to him. He couldn't hear or make out what the voice was saying, but it was far, far away... Damn, he just wanted to get the mush out of his ears. Hearing was good, at least, but what the hell was happening? Right...he could hear. Things were looking up. He still couldn't remember much, but that was still an improvement. He could feel things now...especially his head. It felt like someone had taken a very heavy instrument (the heavier the better) and had simply bashed his brains out. Although if he were dead, he shouldn't have such a rotten head-ache.

The wind (was it the wind or was it the voice?) was rushing in his ears, and all he could think was that it was good, he’d got his hearing back. That was good… Now all that was left was all the rest, and if that song could just stop going on and on and on in his mind…it would be perfect… But it wouldn’t stop and he could feel his head pound, before a flash of pain hit him, as if a blade had scythed his head in half. The pain was almost unbearable and he screamed. At least, he thought he did, but maybe the noise wasn’t him, maybe it was something else…

He couldn’t seem to be able to reconcile what was going on « outside » and « inside », it was all totally jumbled, he was like a blind man in a dark tunnel.

Which he was.

Ah, there was that voice again…he still couldn’t understand what it was saying, a name, maybe? Was that his name? Who was calling? It seemed urgent, urgent and tired, as if the voice had been calling for an eternity. Should he answer? Yes, probably he should, but how? Did he have a voice? Maybe he had screamed beforehand, maybe not. Could dead people scream? Was he dead? No, he wasn’t dead. Dead people didn’t feel pain, dead people were dead. And when the blinding lance of pain stabbed him in the head again, and he heard his voice (yes, it was definitely his voice) scream itself hoarse, he wished he could be dead.

The dead feel no pain. Lucky dead.

 

*

 

The voice was against his ear again and he tried to answer; instead a simple croak, almost obscene in its feebleness escaped his lips. Something cool touched his head and dampness was dribbled into his mouth. As feeling returned

( _holy fucking jesus he hurt everywhere the pain the pain the pain was everywhere make it stop make it stop for the love of god_ )

he felt a hand wrap itself in his and squeeze, and he squeezed back. It was ridiculous, he remembered distinctly using more strength to swat a fly, but it was something. He was back and he remembered…

He remembered…

Everything…

The cold, the dark, the pain of feeling nothing, the pain of feeling too much, the grotesque laughter that bubbled from black lips and yellowed teeth, the taste of blood…

\- Rose… Rose, ya fuckin’ beanpole, can ya hear me?

Shinji’s voice was raspy and cracked and very, very dry. But Shinji was there, very much alive, and not in a dream somewhere. And if Shinji was there…the others would be as well. This much he knew.

\- Rose, if ya don’t say something’, I’m gonna thump ya.

\- …something…

His own voice was terrifying to hear, as if he’d not spoken in years, and the short rasps next to him could only be Shinji laughing.

\- Nice to have ya back…

\- My head hurts, my back hurts, my legs and my arms hurt, I think even my hair hurts. Why, exactly, should I be happy to be back? Wherever « back » is…

\- Such a fuckin’ drama queen. Shoulda’ told Kisuke to gag ya before he woke ya up.

\- And there you were complaining about me not talking. You really should make your mind up on what you want…

It was basic nonsense, they weren’t really listening to a word either one was saying, they were simply taking in the simple fact that they weren’t dead. They were alive and they were fine. They were fine…

 

*

 

Later on that evening, when all of them had woken up and even managed to eat something (not too much, Kisuke had explained something very simple in very complicated terms, as ever…) Shinji had managed to edge closer to Rose and had just stayed there. They didn’t want to sleep, no matter how tired they were, they just wanted to feel their hearts beat and hear themselves breathe.

Kisuke wandered down a while later, almost timid, not daring to come closer until they explicitly told him to. And when he had settled down with them, they held onto each-other, hands gripping like a vice. They had been ripped apart, turned inside out, and they had come back.

And there would be hell to pay.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cake and disaster. Best combo ever!

Valentine's Day

It was the perfect morning, the kind Shinji loved above all. Cool sheets, the sound of birds chirping outside, the warmth of the two bodies pressed against him...  
No, wait...  
With a groan he tried to reach over and feel for them, but they'd already left. It wasn't unusual for Kisuke to get up as soon as the first light had hit the windows, to go and do what a scientist did best, in fact it was daily. The guy just didn't know what to do with himself if he wasn't working on something, if he wasn't useful. As if being useful was the only reason the Vizard appreciated him...

But Rose wasn't there either, and that was wierd. Rose wasn't an early bird, he would insult the morning sun in a wierd blend of english, japanese and dutch, and if there wasn't a good reason to crawl out of bed before he went and made luch for everyone, then he didn't.  
A normal person, in short. But he wasn't there, and he couldn't hear Hiyori screaming, so nothing had happened there. In fact no-one was talking...there was no sound at all.  
It brought back ugly memories and terrifying fears that gripped him still; he grabbed the first thing he found at the end of the bed (one of Rose's silk shirts) and walked down into the main part of the small building.

*

The shop's back-room was empty, none of the Vizards were around, apparently. But there was no sign of a scuffle, nothing out of the ordinary. They'd probably decided to leave for a day out, to enjoy the spring sun. Mashiro loved to go shopping in the trendy areas of the city, and Kensei would never have let her go alone. Lisa and Love had discovered manga, Hacchi had a job walking dogs, and Hiyori never spent too long inside. Everyone had spent too long inside.  
His last fears were lifted when he saw the note pinned on the side of the fridge; Hiyori had scrawled the time everyone would be back, a remnant of their early days stuck in the human world when they all needed constant reassurance. It was far into the 1960s, they'd been here for over fifty years, and neither Aizen nor his plans had found them yet.

Tessai waved at him from where he was outside, tending the small garden. They didn't need the fruits and vegetables anymore, not like they had, but it was always pleasant to have strawberries that didn't cost nearly a thousand yen apiece...  
\- Yo, Tessai. Seen any of the others?  
\- In town, working.  
\- 'K, thanks. How're the strawberries? Lookin' good?  
Tessai simply nodded. A man of few words, as ever. Shinji waved back and wandered towards the rest of the house, and at last he heard voices from inside the kitchen. What were those two idiots doing, honestly?  
He opened the kitchen door with a grin...and burst out laughing so hard he simply fell on the floor.

The both of them were covered from head to toe in flour, much to Rose's vocal displeasure. An empty bag of the stuff was on the floor where it had been dropped, and two eggs were teetering on the very edge of the table. Kisuke was looking terribly sheepish and stupidly cute with white powder all over his jinbei and right up into his hair.  
Rose looked right at Shinji and quite nearly wailed, unable to keep the drama away from his voice.  
\- The man is a walking catastrophe!  
\- What the fuck happened here? Ya both look fuckin' ridiculous!  
\- I wanted to surprise everyone, and this idiot just came in and everything just...just happened!  
Kisuke tried to put the eggs to safety and merely managed to make them fall and smash on the floor, and Shinji couldn't help another bout of snorting laughter. Rose was ranting in his corner, the drama queen at his finest, Kisuke was edging away, not quite sure how to deal with the whole situation, and Shinji was laughing, and laughing, and laughing... 

*

\- Ok, so what was goin' on in there?  
\- It's Valentine's Day.  
\- Yeah...?  
Shinji figured the blank look on his face would prompt Rose to actually say what the fuck he was talking about, and finally the beanpole showed a flyer he'd got from outside.  
\- It's a new thing, from Europe apparently. You give chocolates to the people you love, and in a month, those people have to offer you something three times more precious in return.  
\- Yeah? So what, you makin' chocolate?  
\- Well actually I was making a chocolate cake, as a surprise for everyone, but then the walking catastrophe offers to help, and there you go.  
\- I was only trying to help, Rose-san...  
\- Help? Really? What with, destroying my work of beauty? Cooking isn't science, it's art! Art I tell you! 

Rose would have continued his little speech probably until the cows came home, and even Kisuke had trouble hiding one of his genuinely happy smile. But Shinji couldn't help himself and shut Rose up by simply planting a sloppy kiss on his lips.  
\- Fuck's sake... Shut the fuck up. We love ya' with or without the fuckin' cake.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I will not deviate from my personnal headcanon that Rose is Dutch. Trust me, the research backs it up!

3 Passing notes

The middle of the night was the best moment to pause and reflect; Rose was a night-owl, he'd always known it. There was something calming in the darkness and the silence, something that had always appealed to the artistic part of him. No-one was awake, they'd finally managed to find their sleeping patterns after nearly five years exiled in this rather dingy part of the human world. The Hollow was still groaning inside him, but in the darkness and the silence of the small house, at least it was calm. He didn't light the candle, they didn't have a luxury of those, but just went outside and closed his eyes.

The night was alive with music if you knew how to listen : chirping of insects, the sound of the rain, the wind in the trees...he didn't have a single one of his instruments, his beloved violin had been left behind, so he would make do with what he had.

A small noise came from behind him and he turned, expecting to see anyone from their group; he couldn't really be the only one in their group who had slight insomnia. He thought especially of Shinji, who had panic attacks if he didn't know where the others were, and even if he'd left all the possible signs to say that he was only going for a breath of fresh air. He'd kept the bedcovers neatly turned over, he'd lit the tiny fish-oil lantern that was their only source of light, everything he knew would help Shinji not have a sudden panic attack. But it wasn't Shinji standing in the doorway.

Well...it was going to be one or the other, wasn't it? The moon might not have been out, but Rose was no longer fully human. The Hollow inside him had sharpened his senses, and even with only a few dim stars he could see the black circles under Kisuke's eyes.

\- Hey, did I wake you up? I'm sorry.

\- No, please don't be. I wasn't sleeping anyway, and I don't want to bother you...

Rose just held out his arm and pulled Kisuke close; the initial hesitation born of their transformation had long since disappeared, and they were as comfortable with one another as they had been in the past. Unbidden and unsaid, the words still swirled around them, and Rose could hear every single one

_(I can't sleep)_

_(I'm terrified)_

_(I can't lose you)_

_(It's my fault)_

_(My fault)_

_(I'm not good enough for this)_

_(I'm not good enough for you)_

because Kisuke had said them over and over again while the group had been stuck in their Hollowified state. And even with Tessai and Yoruichi, it had been a horrible, silent, terrifying time.

 

Softly, slowly, Rose began to sing. His voice still croaked and scratched, it still wasn't as he remembered, but it was better than silence. And he'd not sung in a while. The melody carried on the still spring air, lilting and soft. A couple of false notes screamed in his own ears, but Kisuke didn't seem to mind at all; in face he simply huddled a little closer and closed his eyes. What could Rose want more?

Ah, that was interesting...he could actually sing with himself. Harmonics, he could do that now... Three-tone lilts? Yes indeed. And the passing notes were so much easier, now... There, that was at least something to say for the dramatic changes in his life. The lullaby came easier now that he'd started, even if he knew that Kisuke wouldn't understand a single word. None of the little ragtag group understood a word of Dutch, except maybe Shinji, but they'd been around each-other long enough for at least some words to have lingered.

Finally he came to the end of his lullaby, and smiled as the snoring weight didn't move from his shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so there's been a serious lack of kisses recently. So please enjoy!  
> (unless nfsw isn't your thing, in which case, this chapter won't be for you :) )

4) Shriek/Shout

It was an extremely hot and humid summer evening, and the only cool place he could find in the whole house was the laboratory. It wasn't much better, but at least the air didn't feel like it could scour the flesh from bone. Summer in the human world was so much warmer than he was used to, but then everything was much more...more. Summers were warmer, winters seemed to last longer and have more snow and ice. But it was a strange reflexion in itself : everything seemed a lot more intense in the human world.

He'd left his notebooks back in Soul Society, but he had filled several others since bringing the Vizards out of their catatonic state. And he would swear that the drawings were so much more filled with life. But maybe that was because here, at least, they were really alive. He idly flipped backwards through the pages, pages upon pages upon pages of drawings and obserations. Flowers, snowflakes, leaves, muscles and tendons, faces of everyone he'd known drawn out from memory, Yoruichi and Tessai, sketched in the small hours of the morning when they had been sleeping and when he should have been.

But mostly, there were sketches of Shinji and Rose. Everywhere. On every page and in every size. That had been from the very bad times, the times in which he had simply stayed and stared at the still and silent bodies in front of him, wishing and praying for an answer...

A hand fell on his shoulder and he let out a half-stifled cry, which was met by a burst of laughter he recognised only too well.

\- That was real dignified, ya know? Real dignified and befittin' a captain!

\- You scared me, Shinji-san!

\- What were ya doin' that stopped ya hearing me?

Shinji draped himself all over Kisuke's shoulder to see what was on the desk, and he grinned.

\- Got lost in the past again, yeah? D'ya know I've never seen these?

\- I hadn't intended for anyone else to really...

His voice trailed off as Shinji simply swiped the books off the table and began skimming through them, making appreciative noises when something in particular caught his eye.

\- Never intended for anyone t'see them, or just two people in particular, eh? 'Cause from what I see, ya certainly had a mild obsession with two people in particular... Hmmm...?

Kisuke simply looked at him and smiled. There was no point denying it, not any more, not after all they'd already done. Even if sometimes

(often)

he wondered what spirits were watching over him to allow him still a little bit of happiness after all that had happened. And a little more happiness seemed to fall into his lap as Shinji simply sprawled on him and smiled, his little cat-like smile that showed all his teeth and set his eyes aglitter.

\- Stop thinkin', you'll go bald. Stop it.

\- Unfortunately, thinking is something I can't really control.

\- Oh? Ya sure about that? I think I can think of a few things that stop ya from thinkin'.

\- Shinji-san...

And then Shinji's lips were on his, warm, wet and insistant. Very insistant, to be perfectly honest... Just as insistant as the hand that was already working itself into his pants. It was useless to deny that he was already trembling at the touch; he'd denied his feelings and his needs long enough and nothing good had come of it... Sudden heat on his member jerked him out of his thoughts and he let out a small surprised sigh.

His hands curled around Shinji's shoulders without prompting, and again, Shinji grinned and kissed him, just as warmly as before.

\- I told ya t'stop thinkin'...

\- I'm trying...

\- Well, from where I'm at, ya body looks like it wants ya t'stop thinkin' too ~

*

It would have been useless to resist, and Kisuke hadn't even tried; Shinji was smiling, and that had always been enough. He had Shinji's hair tightly gripped in his hand, his mouth was stuck to Shinji's throat and he was thrusting harder and faster. Shinji was moaning and bucking his hips, and with such sounds and sights, the small part of Kisuke that still could form coherant thoughts wondered how he hadn't come yet.

No. Not yet. It was too soon, he was still able to think... And Shinji was looking over his shoulder, those caramel eyes boring into his own... There was almost a challenge in those eyes, he knew them so well. They were daring him to let loose, to finish what he'd started. To let loose who he hid under his peaceful exterior. And he never could say no to those eyes. He began moving again, pinning Shinji flat against the desk, making the whole thing shake and groan in rhythm. Shinji was straining, his knuckles white from clutching the edge of the desk, and his voice grew more ragged with each moan. And with each moan, Kisuke simply held on a little less to his self-control until he jerked and came in a cry, echoing Shinji's own.

A few seconds

(eternities)

passed as he tried to get his breath back, trembling as Shinji pushed against him and sent them both on the floor with a huge grin.

\- So...ya stopped thinking yet? Or d'ya want another round?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit short, i'm sorry. But bear with me, I'm getting over some serious writer's block T_T

During their forced exile, the Vizards did like any family would, and that included the times they just wanted to be alone. Each had their own ways of expressing their desires, some more vocal than others. Especially during those long years when all of them were stuck in the tiny shop.   
Hiyori would snap more than usual and then retreat to the underground training room to fight it out with the training dummies that had been created. Rose would tense up and disappear into the kitchen, closing the door behind him with a slam. Mashiro never seemed to get irritated, but always followed Kensei outside when he needed to go and let off steam somewhere in town. Lisa and Hacchi strangely had the same ritual : they would go and read in the tiny garden and ignore everyone (even if one had to wonder how Hacchi managed; the garden wasn't much larger than him...) As for Kisuke, his smiles had come back since the Vizards had woken up, and if sometimes they got strained a bit, he simply walked into his makeshift laboratory for a while, coming back up as soon as smelled one of his favourite dishes being prepared.

Shinji had a higher tolerance level than the others. He knew exactly why. How could he possibly be annoyed at them, after his sins had nearly killed them all? The very things that caused arguments only proved that they were alive, that he hadn't lost them all, that they were here, with him, and that they didn't hold anything against him. It would have been their right, he would have accepted anything they'd have thrown at him, but they never had. And sometimes it was this that gnawed evilly at him at times, and forced him to be alone.   
When that happened, he disappeared on the roof of the little house for hours on end, just hoping and wishing he'd disappear. He had times where listening to them all talking, even about the most random of things, would suddenly be too much and he just had to run away from them. He would die for any of them, because the whole mess, all of them living in this tiny house, all of them under threat of death, none of them ever able to go back to their home, all this was his fault.

But it would always end the same way. Almost as if they knew exactly when he started to need it, Rose and Kisuke would be right next to him, not saying a word, just waiting for him to bury into them. And they always let him, and they always held him tight, and promised that nothing was his fault. And they kissed him until the salt-tracks of his tears disappeared under their lips, while they watched the sun rise in front of them.  
It was their home, their life. They'd make the best of it no matter what, together.


End file.
